LINES IN THE SAND

Part I

By Wesley Overhults

The Axis

“How many of them do you think are out there?”

Harry Osborn didn’t look at his girlfriend as she asked him the question. He stared up at the sky and watched the stars twinkle in the blackness, knowing that they weren’t exactly real stars. John had called this place “The Atrium”. Technically they weren’t even outside. The room was a giant glass dome on top of the building that served as the Timebrokers’ base of operations. Kate had requested somewhere they could get some privacy while they were forced to take a vacation. Harry hadn’t complained when she dragged him up here, not when the view was this good.

“Aside from the one we ran into, probably a lot,” he answered though he was talking about something else entirely. “We can’t even see them coming either.”

“I wasn’t talking about our enemies,” clarified Wasp, shooting him an annoyed glare. “I meant realities. I mean these stars are different realities, right? How many of them do you think there are?”

“Probably billions,” replied Goblin.

“It’s beautiful,” said Wasp as both of them laid on their backs and looked up at the sky. “I mean it’s crazy at the same time but it’s beautiful. You know that feeling you get when you look up at the stars and you feel really small and insignificant? This is like that times a million.”

“You’ve never been insignificant in your life,” stated Goblin and this time he turned to look at her. “You matter to me, Kate.”

She leaned over and kissed him tenderly, wedging herself in the crook of his arm and making it her new home, his fingertips trailing over the edges of her wings and making them flutter slightly. It was crazy to think that there were billions of worlds out there where everything and anything could turn out differently. She wondered what her life would have been like if she hadn’t have found him, her knight in the tarnished yet shining armor. Maybe things would’ve turned out worse for her or maybe they would’ve turned out better. Maybe it didn’t matter in the end because she had him now and now was the only thing that mattered.

“I really wish we could go for a flight,” she said absently.

“John said we shouldn’t leave this building,” he reminded her. “He said the world outside isn’t nice to our kind. The Timebrokers have had eons to evolve to meet its conditions. He told us that desert we got dropped into at the start of all this was tame compared to the rest of the climate here. I don’t think we’d last even a minute out there.”

“I know,” she agreed. “This building is so big but it still feels like a prison. You ever get that itch, that need to feel the wind rushing through your hair?”

“All the time but I’m comfortable on the ground,” admitted Goblin.

“I don’t see how you can be after feeling what the sky is like,” said Wasp. “Is it bad that I want another mission as soon as we can get one?”

“It’s natural,” he told her as he kissed her on the forehead. “I could do this all day though. I’m not in any rush to throw ourselves into the fire again.”

“Yeah, you make a good point,” she admitted before kissing him on the lips and letting him curl his arm around her, protecting her from the dangers of the world they lived in. After a few breathless moments, her lips pulled away from his. “Is this okay? I mean I know you said you wanted to take things slow and this is definitely not slow.”

“You’re right,” he admitted. “It feels okay though.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

She seemed satisfied for that, her anxieties momentarily quelled. He couldn’t deny that part of him was nervous about all this. There was still a pain in what was left of his heart and he knew that pain wouldn’t go away just by being in a relationship with Kate. Harry had spent too long being nervous though. He had spent too long trying to play things safe, trying to hold back his feelings. That was how Peter lived his life and it was a model Harry always tried to work from because he owed Peter his life. Peter wasn’t here now though and maybe that was a good thing. He had seen dozens of worlds where things happened differently because of choices both made and not made. Maybe this was the path he was supposed to take and maybe he was meant to take it with Kate by his side. In his heart, Harry knew there wasn’t anyone else in his life right now that he would want standing beside him instead of her.

“We’re getting a little stir crazy, John,” noted Sandman. “Sure, some of us are okay with the breather but we’re starting to get that itch again. Tell me you have something for us.”

“I’ve got one,” answered John as he handed Sandman a file folder. “It’s low-risk, should be easy for you guys. I don’t want to throw you into something heavy until we’ve had time to check out everything thoroughly.”

“You’re afraid of running into those people again,” realized Sandman, his eyes barely skimming the file. “They shook you up that bad?”

“An entire reality collapsed because of these people,” reminded John. “The Council might not see this as a big threat but I tend to see things differently than them. Anyways, this mission doesn’t require the whole team. It’s big on subtlety, not brute force.”

“And you don’t want to sacrifice the whole team in case something goes wrong again,” assumed Sandman. “Fine, you need a job done then I’m your man.”

“That’s all well and good but if you’d note the mission then I think you’ll realize that you need a partner,” said John. “I’ve taken the liberty of sending for Songbird. You and her will be the ones running this mission.”

“Just the two of us?” inquired Songbird as she stepped into the conference room. “Why’s that?”

“This Earth is one that isn’t populated by superhuman individuals so I want the powers kept to minimum usage,” explained John. “Plus there’s the rather sensitive nature of this mission. You will note in the summary that this mission involves a Mr. Anthony Stark and his impending marriage to one Miss Rumiko Fujikawa. The problem is that someone has hired an assassin to kill either one or maybe even both members of the happy couple. You’re going to stop the assassin from killing them.”

“Sounds simple enough,” said Songbird with a shrug. “This says the wedding is in a couple days so we’re working on a tight schedule but other than that I don’t see anything wrong with . . .” Her thoughts trailed off as she actually read the rest of the brief.

“We have to pretend we’re a couple,” said Sandman.

“Yes, posing as newlyweds would be the best way to explain your presence at the hotel and to keep an eye on Stark and his bride-to-be,” explained John. “You will note that there is no clause in the mission that states you must do it this way but I think you’ll find it’s the preferred method.”

“I think we’ll pass on that if it’s optional,” decided Songbird.

“No,” disagreed Sandman. “If we’re going to find this assassin then we have to blend in and this is a good cover story to do that. I’m not crazy about it but it’ll make things easier. You in, Mel?”

“Only if I have to be,” said Songbird reluctantly. “For the record, you’re not good husband material.”

“Whatever you say, darling,” retorted Sandman sarcastically before gesturing to the Tallus on his wrist. “Are we ready to go with this thing?”

“I’m going to plug the coordinates in as soon as I leave the room,” confirmed John. “Try to behave yourselves and not get into too much trouble.”

“I think we’ll manage,” said Sandman but John didn’t hear him.

John stepped through one of the many doors in the room and instantly found himself in the control center. He plugged his hands into the slots on the control panel and then keyed in the coordinates for that reality. Sandman and Songbird felt their physical forms disperse into clouds of sand and suddenly they found themselves in a much warmer, much more open area.

“I’ll give it to Stark,” admitted Songbird as she saw the endless line of casinos on both sides of the street. “When he decides to throw a party, he knows exactly what location to pick.”

“No better place for a wedding than in Vegas,” agreed Sandman. “C’mon, we’ve got work to do.”

“You just expect us to magically find what hotel they’re staying at?” inquired Songbird as she followed him down the strip.

“For starters, we’re getting you some better clothes,” decided Sandman, realizing that unlike him she couldn’t change clothes to blend in with a simple thought. “Secondly, Stark doesn’t go anywhere in the world without the media all over his ass. If we want to find out what hotel they’re staying at then we just follow the flashbulbs.”

“You work on finding that then,” decided Songbird. “I’ll take care of my wardrobe.”

“John said powers to a minimum,” warned Sandman.

“I’m an attractive woman in a spandex outfit,” reminded Songbird with a grin. “You think I really need a power to charm some guy out of enough money to buy jeans and a t-shirt?”

“You’re terrible,” said Sandman with a grin. “Fine, meet me back here in . . . what, thirty minutes?”

“No problem,” confirmed Songbird. “See you in thirty.”

Sandman watched her go and then turned his attention back to the mission at hand. He couldn’t have picked a more fitting location for the mission than this one. The entire city was just an island of civilization in a desert wasteland. They were inside a giant sandbox and nobody felt more at home than he did. He slipped behind a building and then turned into his sand form, slinking down to the ground and moving down the strip with frightening speed. He could see everything even without his eyes and it didn’t take long for him to run into a huge gaggle of reporters standing in front of a hotel. He assumed that was the one he wanted and so he decided that he would have to get inside. Sandman wedged his sandy body into the grooves on the bottom of a pedestrian’s shoes and simply let the man carry him inside the hotel, easily making his way past the flock of reporters and security personnel. Once his unwitting escort was inside, Sandman slipped away from him and into a small alcove where he could reform himself. He shifted his clothing into something that made him look more like a tourist, playing up his cover story of coming to Vegas with his wife. The striped green shirt and khaki pants weren’t going to cut it this time. He looked down at the Tallus and was thankful that John had chosen a more inconspicuous appearance for it. It was one more indication that things were different now that he was the one running the show instead of Jules.

“Seriously?” he asked the Tallus or more accurately the voice in his head that came from the Tallus. “Fine then.” He waltzed up to the front desk and flashed the girl working there a smile. “My name is William Baker. I’m here to check in.”

“Right,” said the girl after punching some keys on the computer. “You’re here with your wife?”

“Yes, that’s right,” answered Sandman. “She’s out doing some shopping right now. Mel loves getting new clothes. She should be back soon though.”

“Well your room is already set up so here’s your key and your wife’s key,” said the girl, handing Sandman two keycards. “We hope you enjoy your stay here.”

“I think I will,” said Sandman after putting the keycards in his pocket and making his way to the elevator. “You definitely handle missions differently than Jules did, John. I think maybe I could get used to it.”

The Axis

“Sitting and waiting is not my idea of good time,” noted Whiplash.

“Yeah well I’m the one who should be complaining,” said Bruiser. “I don’t even have my phone with me.”

“You children amuse me with your texting,” said the Russian member of the Exiles.

The two of them were sitting in one of the empty rooms that the Timebrokers used as living quarters. It stood to reason that some of the Timebrokers’ agents would need to crash at The Axis from time to time so The Council had sectioned off a group of rooms for them to use. The Exiles had been the ones using them at the moment though none of them were sure how long the quarantine would last.

“I’m not a child,” clarified Molly. “Seriously, you and the rest of the team should know that by now. I’m not someone who needs other people to hold my hand or coddle me. I’m a big girl.”

“Not big enough,” corrected Whiplash.

“What is your deal with me?” asked Bruiser. “You always look out for me whenever we get into a fight. It’s kinda creepy.”

“I had little sister once,” answered Whiplash simply. “When I rejected military, they killed her with my parents. She was your age when she died.”

“Well I’m not her,” stated Bruiser.

“You behave as she would if she was living,” said Whiplash. “I could not protect her.”

Bruiser stared at Whiplash and tried to think of something to say. She was used to being the youngest on the team. It was the same way when she was with the Runaways. Everyone always thought they had to treat her like a child because she was the youngest. She had seen enough though that she wasn’t so innocent anymore. She never told the others but the only person who ever treated her fairly was Chase. He was like a big brother to her and she didn’t miss any of her friends as dearly as she missed him. Maybe that was why she didn’t like the way Ivan kept looking out for her. It reminded her too much of home.

“I’m sure she forgives you,” said Molly finally. “There must be something to do around here. I’m getting sick of watching Harry and Kate suck face all the time.”

“Da, it is annoying,” agreed Whiplash. “I would be interested in meeting these Council people. I do not like doing jobs without knowledge of employer. It is bad business.”

“Then I think we should snoop around,” declared Bruiser.

Ivan smiled at her and nodded. He let her lead the way, trying to resist the urge to keep her behind him. She was too young to live this life but it seemed that this life had chosen her for a reason. Whatever the reason, he vowed that nothing was going to happen to her because he would be there to stop it. He couldn’t save his family but now fate had given him a new family. Maybe he could at least protect this one.

Earth-186

“You’ve been lounging by the pool all this time?”

Melissa Gold pulled down her newly-acquired sunglasses to the tip of her nose and looked at Sandman without the pink tint of the lenses. She gave him a slightly devious grin that sufficed as an affirmative answer to his question before pulling the glasses back up to the bridge of her nose and motioning for him to join her by the pool. As it turned out, her looks alone weren’t enough to secure her the necessary funds to get some new clothes. What her charms couldn’t help her acquire, her hypersonic vocal chords could. She felt guilty about fleecing the man for money. She knew his type though. He was in Vegas on “business”, which meant that he most likely would have spent the money on hookers and drugs. Songbird didn’t feel too bad about that but there was still that pang of a guilty conscience in the pit of her stomach. She had come a long way since knocking over banks as Angar the Screamer’s girlfriend and she had definitely come an even longer way since being a member of Zemo’s crew and trying to take over the world. Still, old habits and ways of thinking died very hard for her.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on our target,” she told Sandman, keeping her voice low and moving her legs so he could sit on the edge of her chair. She flicked her gaze across the pool in Tony Stark’s direction. “He and the Fujikawa girl have been here as long as I have.”

“Good plan,” admitted Sandman, taking a look for himself without making it obvious. “He’s got some guys watching him, probably private security. I’m guessing he doesn’t go anywhere without it.”

“Noticed that too,” agreed Songbird, shifting herself and noting that Sandman’s eyes strained in effort to not look at her chest as it strained against her tank top. “You’re allowed to stare, Will. You’re supposed to be my husband, remember?”

“You’re enjoying yourself way too much,” he told her, still trying to stay focused on the mission.

“I know, it’s a little unnerving for me too,” she admitted. “It feels good to ditch that carapace for a while though. No matter how light the material is for it, that thing is still murder on my shoulders. Unfortunately, I’m not much good in a fight without it. I can still scream really loud but no constructs.”

“I’ll take care of anything if it comes up,” assured Sandman, allowing his eyes to meet hers and finding it strangely easy to not relinquish his gaze. “You really think someone’s gonna try something in broad daylight?”

“No,” answered Songbird. “If this world had super-villains then I would say yes. You know they always go in for the theatrics.”

“Tell me about it,” he agreed with a chuckle. “So how’d a nice girl like you ever get mixed up with that crowd?”

“Daddy issues and a poor upbringing,” replied Songbird. “You?”

“Same,” he told her. “Guess that’s common for a lot of us. You ever miss that life?”

“Not so much anymore but sometimes,” she responded. “Things were a lot simpler then, or at least that’s what I tell myself. I think I was just lying to myself all those years, telling myself what I wanted to hear so I didn’t have to feel guilty about my actions.”

She noticed that he wasn’t saying anything but he also wasn’t focusing on anything else either. He was actually listening to her and she could tell that she wasn’t the only one struggling with a very checkered past. They weren’t so different when she thought about it. She had gone down this road before with Abe though. Dating ex-cons was difficult enough, even more difficult when you were also an ex-con. It was almost like being a recovering addict and being in a relationship with another recovering addict. Yes, you understood what the other person was going through better than most but there was always that temptation there. There was always that cloud hanging over your feelings and you would find yourself looking at the other person and wondering when they were going to have a relapse. Melissa didn’t want to go through that again. She and Abe had parted on good terms when she left to join the Avengers. It was for the best but that didn’t mean the pain had gone away.

“That’s what we all do,” said Sandman and it finally snapped her out of her reverie. “Since you so kindly reminded me that I’m supposed to be your husband, I guess it gives me license to do this.”

Will leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. Melissa’s first instinct was to recoil from the unwanted display of affection but she told herself it was important to keep up appearances. She let her lips work in tandem with his and told herself that maybe, just maybe, she could get used to it. Kissing him wasn’t so bad. She had assumed that it was going to leave a sandy, gritty taste in her mouth but was surprised to find that his flesh was real flesh or at least that it tasted like real flesh.

“I guess it does,” she breathed once he pulled away, her eyes fluttering a little and her face slightly flushed.

“They’re going back inside,” noted Sandman, letting his eyes turn in Stark’s direction just enough to mark his position but not enough to draw attention. “Give it a minute and then we’re going in behind them. I don’t want to make it look too obvious.”

“No, we wouldn’t want to be too obvious about things,” agreed Songbird.

The Axis

John looked at the two Exiles and sadly shook his head. What they wanted was an impossibility. No mortal had ever gotten a formal audience with The Council. The closest any mortal had come was when The Council personally thanked the Exiles for saving reality from Jules and his evil machinations. You couldn’t just waltz into The Council’s chamber and have an audience with them. It was completely unheard of and it was also extremely rude.

“I’ve done a lot for you but I can’t do that,” he told Whiplash and Bruiser. “You’re just going to have to trust me, Mr. Vanko.”

“I am not trusting person,” reminded Whiplash gravely. “Do not take me for fool, John.”

“I don’t take anyone for a fool until they reveal themselves as one,” said John in return. “Still, the answer is the same. You’re not getting an audience with them. As it stands, I’m lucky enough to get my own audience with them and there’re still some questions I need answered.”

“Where is William?” inquired Whiplash. “He and Melissa are not here, are they?”

“They stepped out,” said John.

“You sent them on a mission without us,” realized Bruiser. “How come?”

“Because he is not trusting us to do job,” said Whiplash before John could answer.

“No,” corrected John. “I sent them because the mission was an easy one and it only required a couple of you. I’m not sending the full team into a mission until I’ve had time to properly assess things.”

“You are coward,” stated Whiplash. “If William and Melissa are to be risking their lives then we should do same. Give us mission, John.”

“One for you two or do you want to drag Kate and Harry into this?” asked John. “I can make a temporary Tallus that will get you there and get you back. Just remember this though. Those people are still out there and we have no idea where they are. You might not be so lucky this time.”

“That sounded like a threat,” said Bruiser. “I really don’t like it when people threaten me. It makes me angry and you know what happens when I get angry.”

“I’m not threatening anyone but I’m not going to let myself be bullied,” stated John. “If you want to run a mission then find someone to wear the temporary Tallus and let’s get something done. I just want you to understand what could happen.”

“I am understanding,” assured Whiplash. “I did not become part of this to sit on sideline and wait, John. I will wear Tallus and run mission.”

“No, I will.”

Both Whiplash and Bruiser looked to see Goblin and Wasp standing in the open doorway of the conference room. It was Harry who had made the declaration and it seemed to surprise everyone including him. It made sense though. With Sandman gone, he and Wasp were the senior members of the team and he wasn’t going to shoulder Kate with such a burden. Harry had always been eager to prove that he wasn’t like his father and maybe this was another chance to do so. Maybe it was time for him to step up and take on more responsibility.

“You don’t have to do this,” reminded Wasp.

“She’s right,” echoed John.

“I know but Ivan is right too,” conceded Goblin. “This little vacation has been nice but if Will and Melissa are going back into the fire then we can too. We can’t be scared of these people all our lives, John. Didn’t I just hear you say you wouldn’t let yourself be bullied again?”

“Point taken,” admitted John. “Fine then, Harry, you’re the one in charge. I’ll have the technicians make a Tallus and tune it to my energy signature. It will have enough power for two jumps, one to get you there and one to get you back here. I’ll be back with the Tallus and the mission file.”

“I am impressed,” noted Whiplash as John left. “I would not have thought you were up to task.”

“I’ve been with this crew a long time,” said Goblin. “Maybe I’ve earned the right to call the shots once and a while. Do you plan on doing what I say when we get into the field?”

“I do job and job only,” stated Whiplash. “I do not care who tells me what needs done.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Bruiser indifferently. “At least we’re getting some action now. I was getting bored just hanging around here.”

“You sure you’re up for this?” asked Wasp as the Exiles waited for John’s return.

“Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them,” reminded Goblin, quoting a line from Shakespeare. “No, I don’t think I’m ready for this but I don’t see anyone else willing to do it, Kate.”

“I’ll watch your back,” promised Wasp, kissing him on the cheek. “You’ll probably be lost without me.”

“I think that goes without saying,” noted Goblin in return.

The Cathedral

“Brother Samuel tells me your first venture as an inquisitor went well,” noted Reverend Stryker.

“Yes, Reverend,” agreed Rahne Sinclair, her eyes flitting to Samuel and forcing herself not to smile at him. “I trust that my work was pleasing to you and to the Lord.”

“It was,” assured the Reverend. “I have the next assignment for you two but it’s going to require more of our forces. I believe it’s time to send out The Choir.”

“Are you sure that’s necessary, Reverend?” asked Samuel, his features growing stern. “We haven’t had to dispatch them in quite some time.”

“Unfortunately, yes,” answered Stryker. “You and Sister Rahne will accompany The Choir on this assignment. You will be encountering some of the Exiles again, a team I’m sure both of you remember.”

“Yes, I remember them,” said Samuel. “I will notify Brother Warren that you have need of his services, Reverend, if you have not already done so.”

“Go give him the good news,” said Stryker. “He and the others have spent too long without a battle to sharpen their skills. I suspect he will be most pleased about this assignment.”

“What is ‘The Choir’?” inquired Rahne once the two inquisitors had left Stryker’s office.

“Something we haven’t had to use in a long time,” admitted Samuel. “Inquisitors do most of The Order’s work, you know that. However, before there were inquisitors there was The Choir. Brother Warren and his band of angels would go from reality to reality leaving devastation in their wake. When we discovered the technology to make our retcon bombs, the Reverend began using inquisitors as an easier and more subtle means of achieving our goals. The Choir was regulated to a peacekeeping force meant to protect all that we’ve built here. They haven’t made war in a long time.”

“Then the threat these Exiles and their masters pose must be dire,” realized Rahne as the duo made their way out of the building and stood before an enclosure that resembled an aerie.

“It must be,” agreed Samuel as he punched in a code to unlock the door and they both went inside.

The giant domed structure was vast, large enough to house a multitude of homes carefully constructed within the branches of the trees. Rahne could see now why Samuel had called them angels. The members of The Choir were people with large, silvery wings sprouting from their backs. They flew all about the aerie, milling around their homes or traversing the empty space of the enclosure as easily as a normal person would walk down the street. As soon as The Choir noticed that they had visitors, all of them fell silent. A blond man swooped from above and spiraled downward, deftly landing on his feet before Samuel and Rahne.

“Brother Samuel,” noted Warren Worthington III. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your friend.”

“This is Rahne Sinclair, our newest inquisitor,” introduced Samuel.

“She is much too pretty to skulk in the shadows with you and the inquisitors,” noted Warren. “Why not come join The Choir, dear lady, and know the true freedom of the skies?”

“I am put where God wills, Brother Warren,” noted Rahne, blushing as he took her hand and kissed it.

“Remember your position, Warren,” noted Samuel.

“Oh but how could I forget?” said Warren, ice in his voice just as it was in Samuel’s. “Why are you here, Brother Samuel? You know as well as I do that no inquisitor comes to our humble aerie unless it’s important business.”

“The Reverend wants me to tell you that he has need of you and The Choir,” said Samuel. “You will be accompanying Sister Rahne and I on a mission.”

“Then this is a day worth singing of,” said Warren, stroking his blond goatee and marveling at the news before turning to address the others gathered in the aerie. “Brothers and sisters, today is the day we have long dreamed of! Today is the day we go to war once again!”

Next Issue: While Sandman and Songbird try to finish up their mission in Vegas, the rest of the Exiles find themselves confronted by The Choir.